


Happy, Giggling Boy

by lavenderlotion



Series: Daddy's Beautiful Boy [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Age Play Little Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Peter Hale, Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Child Neglect, Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 04:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21030287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: “Alright, it’s time for all the clean boys to get into their jammies!” Peter announces loudly, tickling along Stiles' sides to hear his boy giggle. It works, and Peter lets out a breath of relief he hadn't known he was holding at seeing his baby’s smile.





	Happy, Giggling Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving!

Peter could hear Stiles talking when he got off the elevator. His boy's voice was laced with tension, and it had Peter hurrying towards their apartment even if he knew Stiles was more than capable of handling himself in nearly any situation he should happen to find himself in. It had taken Peter longer than he would ever admit to realize this, but a partnership wasn't about protecting Stiles from every little thing that could ever hurt him, it wasn't about eliminating threats before they could become anything substantial, but rather for being there for him through every hurt and every bad day and supporting him through it all. 

Peter opens the door to the Sheriff saying, “I won't get to eat too much pie at the station, but that's probably for the best,” and he closes the door silently as to not alert the older man to his presence through the phone. 

Stiles is standing in the kitchen, paperwork laid out before him and his laptop pushed to the side. His phone is somewhere among the mess, and the Sheriff's voice is tinny over speakerphone. Peter doesn't need to feel over their bond understand Stiles' heartache—it's written in the slump of his shoulders and the sorrow twisting his lips down into a frown that breaks Peter's heart. 

He stalks silently into the kitchen and doesn't let it bother him when Stiles does nothing to acknowledge his existence. This moment is not about him and it does not need to be: another lesson that had taken Peter time to learn. Instead of speaking, he continues until he is standing directly behind the bar stool Stiles is sat on and then wraps his arms around his lovely mate, slipping his warm hands until Stiles' t-shirt because his boy is always cold. 

Stiles shivers, but he seems to draw strength from the touch and his voice is hard when he asks, “Wait...you're working this weekend?”

There is a long, deafening beat of silence before the Sheriff says, “Well yeah,” seemingly oblivious to the way he is breaking his son's heart. Peter holds Stiles tighter, pulling him back until he is sitting up and his back is pressed against Peter's chest. He ignores the racing of Stiles' heart to nose along the growing hair of his buzz cut and breathe him in. Then, the Sheriff says some of the worst words Peter has ever heard him utter, “You know I like to make sure the Deputies can spend time with their families during the holidays.”

This time, the silence is condemning. During the course of Peter's relationship with Stiles _ and _ his baby, he has come to learn much about the Sheriff that he would have rather not known. For a man who is held in such high regard for having so many amazing qualities, he is hardly more than scum where Peter is concerned. On more than one occasion, usually after a bad nightmare or a scolding gone wrong, Peter has fantasized over how sweet it would be to drain the Sheriff of his life on his claws. 

Peter lays his hand over Stiles' racing heart and runs his other up and down his boy's side in slow strokes. When he speaks, Peter is filled with pride over how steady his words are. “But not you,” he states calmly. Peter has to wonder for how many years the words have been trapped under his tongue and how many holidays the Sheriff has used this excuse to miss. 

“What?” The Sheriff's voice is filled with confusion. Peter has seen him enough times over the last couple of years to be able to imagine the face he might be making. Peter wants to snort at his cluelessness but a larger part of him wants to rage at his negligence. Bloodthirst for the Sheriff is a feeling Peter has grown familiar with over the years, and it is strong as he holds Stiles in his arms. 

“You don't need the weekend off to spend it with your family, right?” Stiles' voice wavers over the word family and it makes Peter's heart ache. He has come to love this bright, beautiful, _ brilliant _ boy in his arms more than he ever thought he would be able to love someone again. The fire tore Peter to shreds of whom he once was, a hollowed-out corpse that played at following the motions of life with no real desire to be in it. Stiles...Stiles changed everything. Peter only notices that the Sheriff has not said anything when Stiles snorts sadly. “Yeah, that's what I thought.”

“Stiles...” The Sheriff's voice fades off weakly, no doubt realizing there are no excuses he can make in the face of his son's pain. 

“Don't, Dad. I've never been a priority and as shitty as it is, I have to say I'm used to it. I was just...well, I was hoping it would be different now that I'm not living there anymore.” A wave of sorrow hits him along their bond, and he wraps himself tighter around Stiles, ignoring the edge of the bar stool that is digging into his stomach and hugging his boy tightly. 

“About that, Stiles. We still need to talk about this living situation of yours—”

“Stop. There is nothing to talk about. I'm twenty-three and I live with my boyfriend.” Despite himself, Peter grins into the back of Stiles' neck. No matter how long they have been together for, Peter still considers himself lucky that Stiles has chosen to be with him and love him. “Look, I know that you don't like Peter. I don't know why, because he's never done anything to you and you were never really involved with him until we started dating, but we've been together for years. It isn't going to end and I would really appreciate it if you stopped acting like it is.”

“You don't know that, Stiles. I just wish you would reconsider the direction you're taking your life—”

“Peter and I are not going to be breaking up,” Stiles states firmly. Peter holds him tighter, more for himself than for Stiles. They've never spoken about the longevity of their relationship, not since the first time they slept together and both decided they wanted more than just that. To hear Stiles so plainly declare that they wouldn't be breaking up was...breathtaking. Utterly overwhelming. He can feel just how honest Stiles is being over the bond, is able to hear the steady beat of his heart, and it makes Peter ache. 

“He's the love of my life, Dad. That isn't going to change just because you, without an actual reason, disapprove of him. If you don't want to do Thanksgiving, that's fine. But don't give me the same bullshit excuse you've been using my entire life to skip out on things. Show up, don't show up. I don't care. Peter and I will still be doing something whether you're there or not.”

“Kiddo, I didn't—”

Peter lets go of Stiles when he suddenly leans forward. A second later, the phone cuts off and the kitchen is silent save for their breathing and the heavy, racing beat of Stiles' heart. Instead of settling back into the barstool, Stiles stands up and starts to turn. Peter is there immediately, pulling him into a hug without a single breath of hesitation. 

As soon a Peter has both arms around Stiles' broad shoulders the boy begins to cry.

It’s quiet at first: soft, sniffling tears that soak into the fabric of Peter's shirt. It breaks his heart to see his mate so upset over something Peter cannot fix. As Peter holds him, he feels a notable change in the way that Stiles is standing. As the tension drains out of his shoulders, his cries begin to get louder, the tears heavier, and Peter is able to track the regression of Stiles' age through the intensity of his cries and the tightness of his grip on Peter’s shirt.

Peter does what he can, which isn’t much more than holding Stiles as he cries into his chest. It breaks his heart to be so defenceless, more so when he goes from partner to Daddy. Seeing his little boy cry like this tears at the only good inside him and fills him an all-consuming rage not unlike how he felt when he woke from the coma. 

It is not something that he will ever tell Stiles, but in this moment the urge to tear the Sheriff apart is only tempered by the way Stiles is clinging desperately to his shirt as he continues to cry. Peter does his best to comfort him in all the ways that he knows how: holding him tightly, running his hands up and down his back and sides and mumbling thoughtless words meant to comfort. 

Nothing seems to calm his baby down, so Peter shifts his hands until he has a good hold of Stiles’ upper thighs and lifts him up. Stiles is by no means light, but he is nothing for the wolf thrumming under Peter’s skin. Settling the crying boy on his hip, Peter takes them to the bathroom. Stiles doesn’t always like baths, but Peter doesn’t want to put him to bed without giving him one, especially when he’s so upset.

The boy seems to be beyond words, something that does not happen often. In fact, Peter has not seen Stiles this young in months. If he had to, Peter would hazard Stiles to be younger than two. That thought has him deterring into the playroom, bouncing Stiles on his hip and growling softly in his chest as he grabs a pacifier and gently places it between Stiles’ lips. 

The boy’s entire face scrunches up in betrayal when he does so, but Peter just wipes at his cheeks and thumbs away the still-falling tears. Running a hand over his shaved head, Peter pulls Stiles’ face towards him and kisses his nose, each eyelid, and then his forehead before he pulls back. 

“It’s okay, darling,” Peter rumbles, letting his eyes light up to catch Stiles’ interest. “Daddy’s got you, baby, it’s alright.”

Thankfully, Stiles looks marginally less heartbroken. Tension runs from Peter’s shoulders when the pacifier helps to quiet the intensity of Stiles’ sobs. Tears are still falling from his baby’s eyes, but he is no longer worried about the boy hyperventilating. It’s a small improvement but one Peter will happily take. 

“There we go,” Peter coos gently, ticking his side a bit. “Isn’t that better, baby?”

Moving into the bathroom, he turns on the bath before he sets Stiles onto the toilet. The bathroom is rather large. It was a requirement of Peter’s when he began looking for housing. He would never again be given a sponge bath and the bathroom reflected just how far he wanted to be from that experience. 

It serves them well now, and every time that his baby requires a bath. His tub is a large stand-alone that easily fits the two of them when Stiles is big. Now, Peter hurries to fill it with bubble bath and a bath bomb, turning the water a soft lavender and filling it with glitter. When Stiles is a bit older, he loves the different colours that the water can become, and often gets distracted trying to catch pieces of glitter. 

Peter doesn’t imagine this bath is going to be nearly that fun. He ensures the temperature is good before turning back to his baby, only to find that tears are still steadily streaming from Stiles’ eyes. He is crying silently, but his baby is still crying. The distress of its _ cub _ is making his wolf pace inside his mind, and he tempers it the best he can. 

“Alright baby, you ready for your bath?” he asks quietly, reaching forward and pulling one of Peter’s old shirts off Stiles’ frame. It’s a bit more work to get him from his jeans, but Peter has done this enough times that it only takes a bit of manoeuvring to get them off. 

Once his baby is naked, he takes a moment to pull him into a hug. Stiles latches on immediately, his arms going tight around Peter’s neck despite how young he is. Peter rubs a hand up and down his bare back, hoping for the skin-to-skin to soothe the boy. 

It does a bit, and by the time Peter pulls back, he looks a touch further from heartbroken than he did before. 

Peter hasn’t bathed an infant in a while, but he gently lifts him and sits him in the tub before shutting off the water. Stiles is upset enough that he isn’t even trying to protest the treatment, and that perhaps is more worrying than anything else. “You’re being such a good boy, baby,” Peter praises him, dipping his hand into the warm water and then running the hand over Stiles’ head. 

“We’re going to get you all cleaned up, and it’s going to make you feel worlds better, alright?” Peter asks gently. Worry is still tight in his throat and it’s making him far more cautious than he is used to being. 

Because Stiles is still so upset, he makes quick work of the bath. He washes Stiles with a bar of soap, not bothering with using shampoo and instead scrubbing over his buzzed hair with the same suds before tipping his head back. Stiles doesn’t seem to be getting any younger, and rather more and more awareness is coming to his eyes as Peter cleans him up.

He is sure that the emotional hit threw Stiles into the youngest part of his range. Usually, his descent into his younger headspace is a gentle one. The Sheriff’s neglect forced him down, and Peter is so very glad he took a half-day of work and got home the moment he did. He does not want to imagine what he would have found if he had not. 

“Alright, it’s time for all the clean boys to get into their jammies!” Peter announces loudly, tickling along Stiles’ sides to hear his boy giggle. It works, and Peter lets out a breath of relief he hadn't known he was holding at seeing his baby’s smile. 

Despite the Sheriff negligence, despite the _ absence _Stiles spent years living through, he's okay. He’s still Peter happy, giggling baby boy, and they’re going to be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand another steter fic wow  
comments and kudos are much appreciated!  
come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)!


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